Merge
by Blighted Angel
Summary: Okay. Calm down, Desmond. It's going to be all right. Desmond. You're Desmond, out for a breath of fresh air. You're on a roof at the top of a tower in Acre. There's a bale of hay waiting to catch you on the ground. Remember?


_**Author's Note: **_Okay. I know there are plenty of bleeding effect fanfics out there, of varying outcomes and, well…effects. But, this has been in my head for months and I need to get it out before my favorite assassins pull their hidden blades on me.

So, here we have it: all I will say is, it is AU for reasons you're about to read. On with the story!

_**Merge**_

The stars are a curious thing when you're this close to the sky. I'd almost call them beautiful, though I've never bothered before. Now, basking in the light of the moon, it finally occurs to me. The faint silver glow makes even my blades shine, as if they hadn't spilled a river of blood.

Most of my life has been spent riding the world of 'evil.' There was never time left to notice what was good about it, if anything, so to say this is new to me would be a vast understatement. My missions were all that mattered. They were everything to me. Sometimes I'd see lovers who would star-gaze together, watch the sunrise, then laze about in each other's arms until it was dark again, and I couldn't understand. I couldn't understand _why._

But then, perhaps that's what my master wanted all along; to shape me into one so cold. To shape me into his pet killing machine, never to laugh, cry or love as others did. Was the kind man I knew in the years of my youth a façade, or was he twisted and warped by the Apple of Eden? Who was the true enemy here? Am I ever meant to know?

Curses. What difference does it make? I tire of dark thoughts. They do no one any favors, least of all me. Soon Maria will be here; she'll tell me the same. She'll remind me that I'm not quite the monster I used to be. Then we'll star-gaze together, watch the sunrise and laze about in each other's arms until it is dark again.

Our meetings late upon these walls have taught me what it _is _to feel again. With her, my past seems not to matter in the least. Why is she so late? Is something amiss, I wonder?

No matter the reason, I am sure it is a good one. Perhaps she lost track of time. Truly, it seems an elusive thing when the world sweeps you up in its wake.

Wait.

What was I doing?

Merda. My head aches. What am I, drunk? How did I come to be lying here and where _is _here? Firenze?

No. Venice. That's right. I'm in beautiful Venice. When vengeance has been won I shall bring you here, mia Cristina. You'll wait for me, yes? You will? Of course you will. Then we can have the life I've always promised. We'll move back into my families' estate in Firenze and have a mess of beautiful children. I'll tell them stories of my travels and they'll bounce upon my knee, tiny voices pleading: '_Papa, tell us the one about Uncle Leonardo and his flying machine!"_

Wishful thinking, I know. A hollow dream. Nothing more. You would not wait for me. You _could_ not. You shouldn't have to, despite my deepest desires. So I hope you'll forgive me, Cristina, but I have to entertain these thoughts. I have to. If I didn't, I would have nothing. If I didn't, the sound of my father's neck snapping would be the only sound I could hear echoing in my head.

I wish Federico were here. He always gave the best advice. He'd know how to tell Claudia her life isn't over. He'd know how to dry Mother's tears. The best big brother anyone could have, but now he was gone.

His eyes told me to run the last time I looked into them. I cannot decide which haunts me more; that, or the sight of his lifeless corpse swinging upon a rope.

_Cazzo._ Enough. I promised myself I'd stop this. I promised myself there would be no more wallowing on rooftops with fire in my eyes. It makes me feel as if I am someone to be pitied, although, perhaps that is true as well.

If nothing else, at least the fire warms me. At least the fire burns my tears away. I'll keep this rage and keep it gladly if it means I will forget despair.

For now, I must move. I have a traitor to kill and many more to come.

Ugh. What was I talking about? Damn it. My head is killing me.

How long have I been up here? Beats the hell out of me. Lucy and the others will get worried, but I wanted to see the sky. Something real, to remind me I'm still alive. To remind me I'm still _me._

It scares me more than I like to admit. You know. What the animus is doing to my brain. Honestly, I wonder if there's anything left of Desmond. Does he exist at all or has he always been Altair, hallucinating two lunatics named Desmond and Ezio, or vice-versa?

Fuck, maybe it's neither of those and _Desmond _is the drunk one. I'll wake up with a monster hangover in my shitty apartment, kiss the floor, thank whatever God is up there and vow never to drink whatever I had last night again.

Either way, I think the lucky winner gets points for creativity. How does anyone come up with something this fucked up?

And if this _were_ all just a dream? I'd drop everything. I'd tell my boss to fuck himself, because no one else wanted to anyway. I'd tell what few friends I'd allowed myself to make that I was going on a road trip. Then I'd hop on my motorcycle and hope against hope the Farm hadn't moved far.

Even if they had, I'd find my mom and dad somehow. I'd give them the biggest hug of their lives and tell them I loved them, even if they were crazy conspiracy freaks. I'd tell them I was sorry, maybe ask if I could stay for a while.

That's so fucking stupid, isn't it? I'm the one who left in the first place. What right do I have to long for something I threw away?

God, it doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I just want it back. I just want to tell them I'm _sorry_.

Shit. If nothing else it would at least be better to stick with bartending. I'll go back to Masyaf and mix a Shirley Templar for some drunken idiot any day.

Wait. That's not right. What the hell is wrong with me? I've been confused before, but this is bad. Masyaf? What the _fuck._

Christ, pull yourself together man. Come on, where was it? Where was it Desmond Miles used to live? Where was it he used to have that piece of shit apartment he could barely afford?

Firenze? Masyaf? That's not right, but…damn it. I don't know. Lucy? Shaun? Rebecca? Pull me out!

Tell me I'm in the animus. Oh _please _tell me I'm in the animus. That's why everything is fuzzy, right? _Right?_

I'm scared.

Leonardo will know what to do. I'll go ask him.

Malik will be displeased. He'll wonder where I am.

Damn it, my head. Merda! Federico, what's happening to me? You always gave the best advice. You always said you wanted to protect me. So do it, fratello mio. Help me. _Help me._

Oh God. Lucy. Lucy, I'm seeing things again. The bleeding effect…what sorcery is this? Maria? Why aren't you here? Why are you late? Did you give up and die, like Cristina? I thought you said you'd stay. I thought you said you loved me.

Does that mean Lucy is dead too?

Oh God. What's happening to me?

Okay. Calm down, Desmond. It's going to be all right. Desmond. You're _Desmond,_ out for a breath of fresh air. You're on a roof at the top of a tower in Acre. There's a bale of hay waiting to catch you on the ground. Remember?

You're going to take a leap of faith. We do that all the time, remember buddy? Then you're going to sit down with Leonardo and have a good laugh. He'll slap you on the shoulder and tell you to lay off the wine. Then you'll check in with Malik and let him know where you've been all this time.

Everything is fine. Maybe Lucy will give you tomorrow off, if you beg.

Desmond stood up, and Ezio smiled as Altair soared through the sky.

…and Desmond screamed, as Altair dropped like a stone toward the concrete ground, but it was Ezio who closed his eyes with a whispered, "_Requiescat in pace."_

* * *

Oh my God. What did I just write? I mind fucked _myself._

Yes, the switching of tenses towards the end was intentional, as was the occasional confusion of who was speaking, and the disconnected nature of the prose. That's the bleeding effect for you. Gah. I need a drink. I do hope I nailed their characters. I think I've done pretty well. They are all so vastly different from each other, which makes it both interesting and challenging. Whereas Altair possessed a cold ruthlessness, and moderate emotions later in life, Ezio was all passion and fire. Different still, Desmond is generally a laid back, modest, well-rounded individual. Jumping back and forth proved tricky for that reason.

Anyway. Reviews are welcome ^_^. Go read something happy now, because I'm sure you need the picker-upper :/


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